


Super Handy and User-Friendly

by Fruipit, Lanatris



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Humor, Nudity, Photography, Romance, exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25280875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruipit/pseuds/Fruipit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanatris/pseuds/Lanatris
Summary: After arriving at her fourth-floor apartment out of breath one too many time, Anna's desperate to get fit. Or, fitter.It doesn't exactly go to plan.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Super Handy and User-Friendly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the June 2020 Elsanna Shenanigans monthly contest. Inspired by a true story. Part 2 incoming :)

Anna isn't exactly fit. Healthy(-ish), sure – she eats her greens, has her fruit and nut mix (on occasion) – but _fit_ is definitely not the first word that springs to mind to describe her. It's not the end of the world; she has a comfortable desk job, a lazy cat, and a proclivity to eat a greater serving of dessert than dinner. That's fine, that's life.

It starts being an actual _issue_ about two months after she's moved into a new apartment in a new city. It's nice and cozy, not too expensive (mostly because it's a converted loft in a relatively-non-residential industrial estate). Suitable for herself and her cat and that's all it needs to be. It also so happens to be on the fourth floor, and the elevator stopped working with no prospect of it being fixed anytime soon. It takes precisely two weeks of arriving outside her door with her lungs aching, puffing loud enough to be mistaken for Darth Vader's less well-known daughter, to make a decision.

She needs to exercise more.

* * *

She goes out the very next day and buys a good pair of sneakers. They're specifically for running, apparently, and are also this cool green colour that go with the workout clothes she also bought fresh. 

God sports bras are expensive.

But go big or go home, and it's getting harder and harder to find the motivation to climb all those stairs and actually go home, so Anna's going big (and also because she doesn't have the money to rent the ground floor, even if it was available. She checked). She buys an iPod holder and downloads some 'workout beats' to listen to when she runs. Even if all else fails, she at least looks the part. Fake it till you make it, right?

The first thing she notices, once she gets onto the road, is that it's fucking freezing. But it's fine, it's fine, it's just nature's way to motivate her to get moving. The sun's peeking over the industrial roofs, bathing the empty street in a golden light. She just stares for a moment, the beauty of the morning nearly making her forget that she woke up at 7 on a Saturday – what kind of insane person does that? – to go work out. Yes, yes, it's so she can better conquer her stairs (but if she had stayed warmly indoors, she wouldn't have gone down the stairs and avoided that problem all together). 

No, enough. She's stalling.

So, she takes off running. Well. Jogging. Walking really fast? No, jogging. Both her feet definitely left the ground at the same time there, she's definitely jogging. Just not very fast. She fiddles with her iPod in its little arm-band sleeve-thing. The salesman was a liar. "It's super handy and user-friendly." Yeah, right. While she has to concede that it's easy to have it on her arm, the band is just that little bit too tight, and the wire of her earplugs constantly caresses her arm, which just makes her itch. And don't even get her started on the plug sticking out of the plastic thingy and disconnecting sometimes, ever so slightly, so she sometimes only has sound in one ear. Why didn't she just go for the wireless earbuds? Oh that's right, because they cost more than her entire outfit – shoes, bra, and even iPod – combined. Fair enough. The beat's not quite right (lounge music seems to be more her tempo) and damn, okay, the sun is actually really sharp; she probably should have run in the other direction. Sunglasses? Also there's no one around but her, which is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

Then again, what sane person wakes up at 7 on the weekend to go for a jog? No one, that's right. So that's another point for 'terrifying'.

Anna discards that thought and focuses on that 'exhilarating' feeling because she has to focus on _something_ good, and it works... for a while. The air is crisp, burning a little as it reaches her lungs. Shouldn't crisp air feel fantastic to run in, cool her down while her body's heating up from the exercise? Should her lungs really be burning? How is she supposed to know? How does one discern between a healthy muscle burn and imminent death from her heart exploding under the unfamiliar strain? It's not like she's ever gone out for a run before, let alone at this godforsaken hour. And don't they say that running is perfect to clear the head? Anna has never felt her mind so overflowing with every stimulus around her. It's distracting. There's something not quite right about the shoes, and the iPod has played the same song three times in a row so she's fucked up there. Instead of stopping, though – "ruining the flow" – Anna tries to ignore her aching feet and the stabbing pain in her side. She tries to change the song without looking at her iPod because she should really be looking where she's going, even though there're no cars to run into and the only people around are this couple, a man and a woman about a hundred yards ahead, out for some morning photography.

Seriously, what's wrong with them? Why go out and about when the sun has barely risen enough to make it so that Anna's breath no longer leaves visible clouds in the air. And the girl even stands there stark naked.

Wait, what?

Anne nearly gives herself a whiplash as her head snaps back, focussing on the woman. Couple. Who is she kidding? The woman.

The _completely stark fucking naked_ woman

How much she had been distracted by everything around her before, how little she notices now. Her entire world suddenly shrinks to one thing and one thing only: that woman has the most gorgeous hair tied in a braid, running down her chest to stop right between her breasts.

And then, as her luck would have it ever since she moved into this stupid city, her world expands very rapidly again in the form of the pavement. Having failed to notice the enormous pothole until she's tripping over it, she shrieks in surprise and sends a few dozen birds flying. Her earbuds are ripped away and even the running armband-thingy goes flying off – super handy and user-friendly, her ass – and she knows she looks completely ridiculous. The damage to her dignity, on top of the grazes to her knees, is about all she can think about in her miserable situation in that miserable morning during her miserable jog in those miserable shoes looking up at those... perfect breasts.

The woman who was being photographed – the very naked woman who seems to have completely forgotten that teeny-tiny detail – is about ten feet away by the time Anna's gathered herself, and she's still moving closer

"Oh my God, are you okay?" the woman asks. The dude she's with is chasing after her, a bathrobe in his hands. Anna swallows thickly and tries to look anywhere but at the woman with her flawless skin (how is she not covered in goosebumps from the cold?) and blonde hair (... definitely natural) and— Really? She just has to bend over on her way to pick up the running band, presenting Anna with a perfect view down her front. She's shimmering, too, like morning dew on grass, something catching the light. Wait, is she covered in snowflake glitter? ...Okay, so maybe the arm band is actually super handy and user-friendly after all... God, she also just has the most gorgeous eyes, blue as ice, Anna could just drown in them. And those lips, soundlessly mouthing out words. Wait, no, not soundlessly.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The blonde goddess kneels down in front of her, her chest dangerously close to eye-level in her haste to check on Anna's well-being. And Anna is most definitely not being well. If the woman makes one more move (for the love of everything holy, _please_ stop shifting those long legs), she swears she's going to combust, Or melt. Or melt in combusting heat. Air, she needs some air.

"Ughg hot. I mean, f-fine. _More_ than fine, actually, uh—"

"Jesus Christ, Elsa!"

Anna's cut off by the arrival of the dude. He's got a heavy-duty camera around his neck and practically bear-hugs the woman – _Elsa_ – to get the robe around her– maybe there is a God after all. She gives a little giggle.

"Woops, sorry. Kinda forgot." The guy rolls his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, turning back to Anna, but Anna barely registers the question. She forgot?! How does one casually forgets that they're naked? Outside? At 7 in the fucking morning when it's all but freezing? Though, truth be told, Anna isn't cold anymore. Far from it. When did it become so hot all of a sudden? It's easier to look at the woman now she isn't flashing her... snowflakes. Anna seriously needed to get out of here. 

"Y-yeah, thank you. Just- really clumsy." The woman, Elsa, holds her hand out for Anna to take, tugging her to her feet as she gives a little laugh and hands back her iPod.

"C'mon, Elsa," the guy says, already turning around. "We only have about ten more minutes of the good light and we need more pics for the exhibit."

"Coming, chief!" she calls over her shoulder before turning back to Anna. "Sorry, he's a bit of a slavedriver. Good photographer, though he could be more..." Anna's quite sure Elsa said something more. No idea what though, as the information comes from her staring eyes having noticed Elsa's perfect lips moving rather than her ears having picked up the actual words. It's like her entire body is incapable of processing more than the rush of her own blood to her head. God, she must look like a sweaty tomato by now. Hopefully Elsa will just think it's because she was running. 

Huh, maybe not exercising has some advantages, too?

Anna takes the opportunity to begin backing away because this woman is talking to her and all Anna's traitorous brain can offer is the fact that the only thing separating her and utter naked perfection is a flimsy bathrobe which isn't even separating everything anyway, what with the casual way it's been put on. There's still definitely some cleavage, plus a flash of one of those gorgeous naked legs that run all the way up to her– Stop it! It's really so very hot that morning. Anna can feel that her brain is about five seconds away from being complete mush. She needs to get herself away from this woman.

"Th-thanks again, but got to go, keep that… heart rate up. Runner's high? Stretch the muscles?" she says, just before taking off again. How many runner's clichés can one know without having owned a pair of running shoes for more than 24 hours?

If Elsa's a model... maybe she can find her pics online...

Okay, guess she doesn't need to run after all to get that heart rate going again.

Shaking her head out, she slows down to a walk as soon as she's out of range of the couple. This is stupid and ridiculous. She'd gone for a run to get fit, not to stumble across _that_. Then again, there are other ways to get fit than running. And that one would be infinitely more pleasant than running. Hah! Ahem. She should really stop focusing on it. 

Now is the time to think about how the fuck to get back home – where the hell had she quite literally run off to? – and take a shower. Maybe a mildly cold one. Damnit, she's been living alone with her cat for too long...

A plan which, while not fantastic, is completely scuppered anyway when she finds herself stopped by a closed door because she's _lost her fucking key_. That damn "super handy and user-friendly runner's band" was open and the compartment where the key had been neatly tucked in was empty.

Her key, the one that had her address written on it (like a _moron_ ) because she couldn't remember the stupid-ass street name when she'd first moved in and then she just hadn't bothered to take it off.

She would now have to sleep with one eye open, because hello burglar who found her key on the street with the fucking address scribbled on it. Jesus.

Slumping on the front step, Anna puts her head in her hands. She digs her palms into her eyes and lets out a growl. She'll have to call the landlord... except her phone is in her apartment. Maybe there was a window-? No, that would be really dodgy and definitely a good way to get arrested. A locksmith? Again, no phone. Or car. Or ID to prove it's even her apartment in the first place. Ring the bell for a neighbour? Would be the perfect solution if it was not 7:30 on a bloody Saturday. She's going to be stuck here for at least two more hours! This is what she gets for being a proactive human being. Get fit, they said. It'll be good for you, they said. It most definitely wasn't better than getting into your own apartment and taking a shower! _Fuckernuts_!

Running her hands through her hair, inadvertently styling it every which way, Anna drops her arms and lets her head tip forward onto her knees, rolling it back and forth. Fine, fine, this is fine. She can manage for two hours. Surely she can. Why couldn't she? In this foreign city. With literally nothing but the clothes that she's wearing and her music– that's just run out of battery. Seriously?! So she has the clothes on her back. Ha, well, that's at least more than Elsa had. Now there's a thought that can keep her occupied until someone is bound to wake up and help her out.

Anna groans. Is this really who she is now? This horny homeless person condemned to wait for the rest of the world to wake up and notice her miserable existence outside that damned locked door?

So Anna definitely has a bit of a cry to herself because there's no one around to stop her. In a way it's kinda peaceful. This has to be her city rock bottom, right? What more can possibly still go wrong now?

Rapidly approaching footsteps startle her out of her depressing spiral. Stranger danger, mugger alert, is the first thing that jolts through her being. She just had to jinx it by saying that nothing could go wrong anymore. Really? What, from that entire morning, had given her any inclination that she had any bargaining ship with the universe to taunt it like that?!

Anna tenses, ready to defend herself (because if the day has taught her anything, it's that running away will not do her any favors) and... is completely surprised to see Elsa – fully clothed – walking up to her.

"Oh, there you are!" Elsa says, smiling. "Of course, where else would you be given the circumstances? Anyway, this street is surprisingly long." She's not making any sense to Anna."I was hoping to catch you here. Saves me the trouble of waiting for you on your doorstep." And she just keeps on... not making much sense. She's standing before Anna now and just sort of stares at her. Not unkindly but ... what? Just what is happening this morning?

Anna doesn’t mind seeing Elsa again. She thinks she would never mind at all, but there is just something weird – even by her standards – about it. Like why? How? What? Why again? Did she follow her? Okay no, that’s too weird. A thousand questions are running through her mind until she manages to focus on the most pressing one. “Erm, not to sound rude or anything but … why were you looking for me?”

"Oh right," Elsa seems to catch herself and smiles sheepishly as she digs through her pocket. “I found this with the address handily written on it when we were wrapping up our shoot, and I figured it belonged to you and you’d want it back." She holds up a tiny metal sliver that reflects in the sun like Excalibur in its stone. Her key! Her salvation! Her access to basic hygiene!

Anna takes the offered key, holding it firmly as if her life depended on it. It sort of did anyway. “Oh my God, THANK YOU! I could kiss you!” Elsa’s face flushes, and so does Anna’s, as her mind has zero trouble conjuring up compromising positions involving her lips and Elsa. “I mean, I could, I mean, you’re a lifesaver, my hero! Thank you!”

Elsa seems to recover nicely enough and offers her now empty hand, smiling timidly. "I'm Elsa, by the way." As if Anna hadn't heard and instantly memorised her name before. As if it isn't one of the prettiest names – thus the most suitable – she's ever heard before. 

For a brief moment Anna has the ridiculous thought that she's actually quite... shy. But how can she be? She was basically her knight without any armour – though still shining – not that long ago and– stop it! Anna focuses on the clothes, actively reminds herself that Elsa is no longer naked, and takes that lack of nudity to muster a smile and take the offered hand gently.

"Um. Anna." She opens her mouth to say more but then spots several glittering snowflakes that trail down Elsa's neck toward her cleavage in the best snowstorm ever and, no, she clams her mouth shut because now she's not just out on the street, she's straight up in the gutter and she really doesn't trust her usual word waterfall that, in any normal situation, already threatens to overwhelm and scare away... well, everyone?

Elsa looks away then, which gives Anna a chance to actually _appraise_ her instead of just stare. And this time she can do it without feeling like a hormonal teenager. No wonder Elsa's a model if she looks this good with clothes _on_ . Elsa shifts where she's standing, the sunlight catching even more glitter remains, which will probably be all through her clothes and hair because it gets _everywhere_ but Anna wouldn't mind getting a bit on- nope. No more.

She's just about to stand up and thank Elsa again for having returned her key before going inside (because she _definitely_ needs a shower, and not the fun kind) when she realises something about the woman in front of her.

Sure, Elsa may have 'forgotten' about her state of undress earlier, but it's not any kind of false modesty. At least, not that Anna can tell. She clearly has confidence in her look, which is something Anna certainly isn't going to argue with, but ... she doesn't seem to project any of that confidence now. Her blue eyes are wide and bright, and there's a pretty blush on her face.

Frankly, Anna expected her to be a little more forward. She isn't. Elsa's got her arms crossed and keeps glancing away and there's a small but hopeful smile on her face.

Now it's Anna's turn to be smooth(ish) and suave (er...) and forward (...sure), to just be _more_ , so when she stands up, she doesn't turn around to go inside. She actually takes a step closer to Elsa, or tries to.

She trips down the stairs, landing right on top of Elsa.

"Oh my God, I'm such a klutz," she says, thankful for a moment that Elsa had, despite releasing the cutest yelp ever, managed to keep her footing. Models and balance, it's a thing.

Of course, the way she's now biting her lip in a completely failed attempt to not be smirking down at Anna really doesn't help Anna's sense of balance. Anna's also very aware that she has snowflake glitter on her hand and where exactly her hand has been for it to have gotten there. Hot, it is so very hot this morning. 

"You really seem to have had quite the morning," she says, just as Anna's straightening up. Elsa seems strangely fixated on her hand. Anna tries to hide the treacherous limb from view, but she swears Elsa's eyes widen ever so slightly. Her tone is completely flirtatious, which is why Anna's a little thrown and looks up when Elsa suddenly gets a little quieter. Shyer. "I always find a cup of hot chocolate to be very relaxing. Would you perhaps be, er, interested in having one with me?"

Anna's eyes widen. Sure, Elsa's tone and overall confidence had been in a definite downward spiral to land in utter shyness and insecurity by the end of that sentence, but interested? _Interested_? Of course she's interested in getting to know this absolute Goddess of a human being. This perfect representation of... perfection. Eloquent. She breathes in deep to calm herself but instead becomes acutely aware of a drop of sweat making its way down her spine. And her matted hair and disheveled appearance; her desperate need for a shower, and a stick of deodorant, and she hasn't shaved her legs in weeks...

"No," she says, her honest, horrified opinion about her own appearance apparently being vocalised at the absolute worst moment. Once again, her mouth has moved before her mind had the chance to edit and redact and tell it to shut the fuck up before ruining what seems to be the only thing trying to redeem her miserable morning. Elsa's entire face falls, and there are alarm bells blaring in Anna's head telling her to fix this _now_ . "Wait-no, I mean _yes_ because who would say no? Not me, nope, definitely not me. What kind of sane person says no to someone like you? Not that I'd say that I'm sane. Wait, what? I mean, I'm not insane, because it's not like I should be wearing a straitjacket and be kept under surveillance. Where am I going with this? Oh boy. Okay. Erm... You know, it's just, I can't possibly go out looking like... this... next to you, yknow? I know it sounds incredible, but somewhere under all of this there is a tiny sliver of dignity. Sure, it already took quite the beating from the pavement before. And the losing of my key. Falling for– _at!_ Meant to say at, you and–" Anna sees the flash of disappointment that had appeared on Elsa's face melt away like snow in the sun, and the sight alone is enough to stop her world from spinning out and instantly stem the flow of her word waterfall. "Imma shut up now."

"How about I give you my number and we can try for something tomorrow?" Elsa asks, still rather unsure but oh so hopeful. Anna's positive she picks up on a laugh in her tone anyway, and she nods thankfully.

"YEAH! YES! I-I mean," she pauses to clear her throat, and maybe get _some_ kind of grip on herself. "Heh, yes, I'd love– hah, _like_ that! Let me just get..." her face and enthusiasm starts to slip slightly as realisation begins to sink in, "my phone...which is still in my apartment...on the fourth floor. I'd say I'd run up and quickly get it, but haha, you've seen me run. You know there are just so many untruths in that sentence that I'm not even going to bother. I really need to exercise _more_ and--"

Anna is cut off by the sweetest, shyest chuckle she has ever heard and watches in growing curiosity as Elsa, in a bout of unexpected confidence, seemingly conjures a lipstick from her pocket and leans forward to take Anna's running band, writing out each digit carefully before handing it over to Anna. "Don't forget," she says. Anna takes the plastic, glancing down at the numbers before looking up. Elsa's already taken a step back, red flooding her cheeks again, but her courage still present enough to send over a wink just before she turns around to walk back the way she came.

Well that was definitely more than she had bargained for that morning. When she can no longer see Elsa's retreating form, Anna looks down at the running armband in her hand. There are snowflakes caught in the lipstick numbers. 

Okay, definitely super handy and user-friendly.


End file.
